


baptise me in saltwater (justify these tears)

by Still_sleepless



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Betrayal, Character Death, Churches & Cathedrals, Dark Magic, Horror, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Occult, Psychological Horror, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_sleepless/pseuds/Still_sleepless
Summary: "The church is wrong", San says quietly, standing against the backdrop of the very thing he condemns. A storm is brewing, almost drowning out the words amongst thunder.Wooyoung merely smiles silver, rain weighing down his cloak, emphasising just how skinny he's become. "The church is home for wretches like me."OrIt starts as it ends.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Kudos: 12





	baptise me in saltwater (justify these tears)

**1 Peter 5:8**

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.

  
It's on a Sunday that San moves into town, heat so heavy he almost falls asleep as he grinds his way through the roads. Only once he reaches the sprawling estate that he's claimed as his own, does he acknowledge the cloying scent that seems to be rising from the ground itself. It smells like cardamom. He shakes his head, knowing that his sleep deprivation always gets worse with any big move.

There's no one in town.

That's the second thing he notices. The absolute emptiness of the place is almost eerie. 

Leaving his brother to deal with the chaos of moving trucks, he strolls into the centre of the middling borough. A whitewashed collection of stores meets his sight, a neat row of novelty shops all with their shutters down. The metallic glint under the noonday sun is sharp enough to blind if you're brave though to stare. San doesn't stare, just glances before moving further on into the township. In the distance, he can sense a disturbance of some sort. The lull of a gentle melody draws him in close to a simple building, overcast by large trees covered in lush greenery. 

"Oh." San exhaled in disappointment, having spotted a plaque. "It's a church," and despite his disappointment at the normalcy of the building he lingers due to the sheer volume of the noise coming from within. A uniform set of voices are speaking in time to a string section. 

San's prescient curiosity has been set on fire and he's never been afraid of the unknown. So, after a moment of deliberation he opens the heavy oak doors and steps into the surrounding sound that sinks into his skin, an orchestra of percussion and vocals float through the air and inflate the cells that stick close to his brain and San is euphoric. 

The interior is vast. An open space made expansive by countless sunspots lighting up the pews through a partially glass roof. A flood of warmth passes through San and he stalls, dazed by the very feeling. 

And the people, oh the people. There's no way that so many people could be in this church, as large as it may be. The town only has a residency of a couple hundred. By San's measures, all of the townsfolk have flooded into the church for attendance. He's so impressed he forgets to be put off by the veracity of their belief.

Despite his brash entrance, no one seems to notice San's presence and he takes advantage of the opportunity to slip into a pew at the back next to a young man who turns just long enough to smile. It's comforting, in a bizarre way.

At the front the choir are dressed in flowing gowns of stark white and supple gold, swaying from side to side as the instruments come to a gentle end. They filter off the raised in pairs, coming down through twin stairs and assuming seats at the front pews.

He steps through then, entering from a door that had previously gone unnoticed to San. The first thing that captures his attention is the finery that the man -the priest- is adorned in. Strands of delicate silver jewellery wrap bands around his wrists and run up his arms. It seems that everyone else is suddenly at rapt attention. All focussed on the man who slowly steps up to the dais and grins, teeth straight and on show. It's alluring in a way that San immediately knows he shouldn't feel. Similar to the sharpening of a blade or the first bite into a slice of watermelon on a hot day, juice overflowing faster than you can eat.

And San is shuddering, imperceptible and uncontrollable as the pastor's words flow like a song, as if the choir had never really stopped.

"-Give thanks for the day that we are living, the multitudes of gifts that God gives in the form of the rain and the stars and the silence we feel at night. Keep far from the Devil's sight lest he claim a firm grasp on your soul. Let us meet this incoming day with grace and bide by societal rules. Thank you all for coming." As quickly as the noise died down, it starts up again through meaningless chatter, people clumping into groups and gossiping about events that San is, not yet, privy to. Seeing this, he remains seated for a moment too long, until there is a sure tap on his shoulder from his seat-neighbour.

The man is immaculately dressed in a crisp dark suit and standing up San realises that he cuts a formidable figure. Without meaning to, San looks back at his own scuffed sneakers and regrets not changing. He's interrupted from his self-deprecation by a hearty laugh, the man grinning in a way that would put the sun out of a job. 

"Don't worry, I'm overdressed, I know. I've got a job interview in half an hour", he shakes San's hand with an impressive grip, gelled hair slicked back, "I'm Choi Jongho."

San notices that Jongho's boisterous introduction has attracted some glances so he straightens his back and stands up. If he's going to be in town for the foreseeable future then he'll make the most of it. "I'm Choi San." He smiles, in the way that he knows people like, just lopsided enough to be charming. Jongho's grin grows impossibly larger and San guesses that it's worked.

"I just moved into town. I'm a property developer." San says firmly, loud enough for the onlookers to hear. He'd rather get introductions over and done with now rather than repeat it 1000 times. He leans against the back of a pew, lethargy suddenly catching up to him in a way it hadn't before.

Jongho scrunches his face at that, opening his mouth slightly before someone clasps an arm around him from behind. San is startled into submission by the shock of platinum white hair amongst a sea of brunettes. Jongho scowls but let's the arm stay, hand dangling off close to his collar and already leaving a crease. 

"A property developer?" In our town? We're honoured, truly." The blonde drawls, each sentence punctuated with a slow blink that sets San's itchy fingers alight. If there ever was a definitive Southerner then San thinks this man would be it. "No, really," he adds, tucking one long white lock behind his ear before flicking at Jongho, "we could use a boost of the economy around here." And there's a moment when nobody says anything, Jongho looking elsewhere in disinterest, and the blonde man holds a steady gaze which has San trying to remember anything about the economy. "Relax. I'm joking", his deep voice drips with Southern playfulness and San feels foolish in hindsight. 

But this feeling is only lasts until Jongho interjects, elbowing Yunho. "San, as you may have already noticed, this is the resident idiot. Jeong Yunho." 

Yunho only hides a smirk behind his hand and sidles closer to Jongho's side, smiling coyly. "I didn't realise you think so highly of me, Jongho." Jongho impatiently waves his hands dismissively, looking back towards San with curiosity frothing gently beneath the surface.

"What brings you to the church? An unusual thing to do on moving day." He chews at his bottom lip methodically, frowning ever so slightly. "Are you a great believer?"

And San stills, hesitating as he thinks over his words, acutely aware of just exactly where he is. Slowly, he rolls out the words, "I'm not...really much of a believer. The town was just really empty and I found myself here, somehow." 

Yunho simply nods sagely, looking unsurprised. "That happens a lot, right?" He looks to Jongho for support but he's only half-listening, picking up his bag and looking panicky. 

"Yeah. It happens a lot."

Yunho continues, seemingly choosing to ignore Jongho. "We're a God-fearing town." The words aren't unusual this far down South, especially not in a Church so San isn't fazed. They both look at Jongho's hurried hand movements in sync. "Are you late, Jongho?"

He only blinks, trailing down away from them before throwing one last look backwards. "There's much to fear down here." He's gone before San can process the thought, almost like it never happened. Fear is not something he's familiar with. Yet.


End file.
